


Don’t tell me it’s too late...

by zazajb



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-05
Updated: 2014-04-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 22:22:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1280944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zazajb/pseuds/zazajb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack’s back and struggling to find the words to talk to Ianto about their relationship...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don’t tell me it’s too late...

  


Title: Don’t tell me it’s too late...  
Author: zazajb  
Rating: R, adult concepts, occasional language, M/M  
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, team  
Spoilers : Set during and after KKBB  
Summary: Jack’s back and struggling to find the words to talk to Ianto about their relationship...

Fic masterlist:  <http://zazajb.livejournal.com/6286.html>

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters - just like to dabble with them from time to time, neither do I own the song or singer.  
A/N Inspired by the gorgeous song by Josh Groban <http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-FPA8DHdia8>

X-posted Jantolution , jackxianto & TW_classic , tw_proper, jantosparkle, theijs [apologies to those getting this multiple times]

A/N1 This has been crashing around in my head for days and was getting in the way of everything else so I gave in and pinned it to the keyboard! Hope you enjoy.

 

** Don’t tell me that it’s too late... **

Jack was back. That familiar grin, the coat and those bloody 51st Century pheromones... Ianto knew he was gaping and there was nothing he could do to stop himself. But the thing he hated most of all was knowing that despite being totally pissed at the way he’d just left them....left _him_ after kissing him like that – now that was more than a part-time shag kiss – he _still_ wanted to fling himself into his Captain’s arms and snog his face off... _shit!_

Their eyes met and he caught a myriad of emotions lurking within those blue grey depths – pain, grief, guilt, relief and delight all fighting for dominance. He bit his lip and dropped his gaze, feeling the other man’s eyes lingering...burning into the back of his skull as he turned away, biting down hard on his bottom lip. He ignored his increased heart rate and the butterflies that had suddenly invaded his stomach and concentrated on the clear up required at the scene. By the time the room had been cleared of dead Blowfish, the curtains sponged clean of splattered Blowfish brains and the family treated for shock, gunshot wounds and then retconned, it was late and he was knackered. 

The drive back to the hub was made in uneasy silence, each of the team lost in their own thoughts, assessing their own reactions to the return of their erstwhile dynamic leader. It wasn’t until they fell into their familiar, sans Jack, routine that the emotions churning under the surface burst through when Jack chanced a light-hearted remark about coping without him and he got it...both barrels!

“You left us, Jack – we knew nothing...” Gwen shoved at his chest.

“I know...I’m sorry”

“Where did you go?” 

A flicker of a smile crossed his face and the warmth in his eyes tore at Ianto’s heart, the knife twisting in his gut at his words, “I found my Doctor...”

“Did he fix you?” Owen was snarky.

“What’s to fix? You don’t mess with this level of perfection!” the typical Jack response accompanied the trademark Harkness grin, but the smile never reached his eyes Ianto noticed, shadows lurking behind the facade...

“You’ll go back to him...” the words were out of Ianto’s mouth before he realised he’d spoken aloud.

Hurt flashed across that handsome face, “I came back for you...” he looked into Ianto’s eyes, reading suspicion and uncertainty before the Welshman dropped his gaze. Jack gulped. “All of you,” he amended hastily as he noticed the hostile looks from the others...

They’d had no time to ponder on anything Jack had said – or not said – as Captain John Hart was upon them with his swagger and sarcasm, paralysing lip gloss and slightly smaller wrist strap which he over compensated for with a vastly larger ego. Ianto hated him on sight, even more so when he learned of the past relationship with their Captain.

“We were partners...”

“In what way?” 

“In _every_ way...”

He cursed under his breath realising that this psychopath with his chiselled cheekbones and quick wit was an ex-lover and judging by the looks he was giving Jack, he was all for renewing that intimacy. Could the day get any better? Apparently so, because after the surprise of an uncertain and quite endearingly hesitant Jack asking him out on a date as they searched an office for Captain-bloody-Hart’s elusive cluster bombs, he found himself with a new nickname and a face full of Hart’s gun. Cursing himself for being caught out so easily, he surrendered his own weapon and raced to find the others when Hart forced him into the elevator with a promise to shoot on sight if he returned.

It was some comfort to discover that the team, though beaten, bloody and poisoned, were alive. Jack, after another death courtesy of a shove off the roof by a bitter and rejected Hart, was able to stun his ruthless and murderous ex-partner into finally telling the truth and with much high drama, handcuffs and a last minute dash with some innovative quick thinking by Owen, Captain John Hart was sent back from whence he came and now they all had to avoid themselves for twenty four hours...bloody fantastic!

In the two weeks that had passed since that day, Jack had resumed his leadership, in some respects almost as if he’d never left...save one... Although he’d asked Ianto out on a date, nothing more had been mentioned and Jack had been distant with him ever since. He missed the intimacy they’d had before Jack had left with the Doctor and despite the hurt, he couldn’t help but long for the days when they’d share a coffee after the others had gone, share stolen kisses around the hub and long passionate love-making down in Jack’s bunk...in the hot house...in the archives...in Jack’s office...

His hands followed their well practiced and familiar routine as he sorted out the last afternoon coffee round with the images from a particularly hot session filling his mind as he was pressed up against the kitchen door whilst the others were at their desks. It had been a near miss with that weevil, the scrape down the side of his neck a testament to that fact and Jack had been in his arms, kissing him with an urgency and passion that had them both fighting back the tears as the realisation of _just how close_ that had been...

He bit back a sob. He’d give anything for a moment like that now. Jack was back, but he was a hollow empty shell of the man he’d been before he went away... _broken_ and Ianto didn’t know how to reach him. A lone tear escaped and he brushed it aside impatiently, concentrating on making Jack’s favourite blend...

In his office, Jack watched his Welshman on the CCTV and once again the pang of longing was enough to make him wince. He reached a trembling finger out to stroke the image on the screen. There was so much he wanted to say to him, the need to wrap him into his arms and kiss him into the next universe was a constant physical ache but after the incident with Hart he didn’t know where to start. Every day he resolved that _this_ was the day he said something, _anything_ to get Ianto back, even if it was only for friendship...he missed their easy banter and those quiet coffees at the start and end of the day, missed the sparkle in those blue eyes as they teased him and the warmth of his body pressed close as they snuggled in his tiny bunk after a mind blowing session of hot lovemaking.

He closed his eyes and imagined himself tugging the young man onto his lap when he delivered his coffee, planned the words he was going to say _for all the times I tried for this...and every chance at you I missed..._ How to explain why he’d gone _I’ve been known to go my way..._ How to say that only the thought of Ianto had kept him fighting on the Valiant... _but I confess, it made me miss you more..._ Oh, the bitter irony – all that time denying his feelings... _I drew my line across the sand_ refusing to admit that he loved this wonderful Welshman...he didn’t _do_ love, not for so very long now...it’s better that way... _and set my flag in no-man’s land..._

Finding himself alone and shackled in that grimy boiler room his thoughts returned time and time again to that face, that cute button nose, deliciously pink lips and those gorgeous Welsh vowels. He’d meant that kiss, then he’d left him behind, only to find a piece of his soul missing - this quiet and unassuming young man had ducked all his barricades to settle firmly in his heart and the image of him smiling had burned brightly with every death and agonising return to life. How naive he’d been to assume that they could just resume on his return... _but here I am, the one-man-band, with a song that’s meant for two..._

The sight of his Welshman wiping away a tear filled him with both hope and guilt...hope that Ianto was hurting as much as he was because he wanted more than the stilted working relationship they had at present and then the heavy burden of guilt knowing that he’d caused the hurt in the first place. He shifted miserably in his chair. This had to stop – he needed to know for both their sakes. He watched as Ianto loaded the tray with mugs and what looked like chocolate brownie, his favourite...all those little ways Ianto was reaching out to him and he’d not noticed, so busy looking at the big picture he’d missed the important things, but now he could see clearly... _and there is a light from a higher window shining down on you tonight..._

Ianto was now in the main hub, handing coffee and cake round to the others. Jack snapped off the CCTV and tugged a file towards him in an attempt to look busy when the young man arrived, in reality staring unseeingly at the sheets in front of him, his attention fixed on the door and the sure certainty that he was going to put things right between them. He ached to hold him, to kiss those soft and sensual lips and run his fingers through his hair...

He heard the measured steps approaching and held his breath. Ianto tapped lightly on the door and came in. “Coffee, sir...” those Welsh vowels caressed his ears and sent a surge of heat to his groin. He looked up into the younger man’s eyes, saddened to see the usually sparking blue dulled with pain. He reached his hand out, only to have his coffee placed carefully into it. Their fingers brushed briefly and he felt the tingle of electricity at the skin to skin contact, his breath hitching as he looked to see if Ianto had felt it too. The spark in those gorgeous blue depths urged him on as he used his other hand to plonk the mug on the desk whilst retaining hold of Ianto’s hand.

“Jack...I...”

“Ianto...I...” they both spoke at the same time, both faltering and looking away.

Ianto bit his lip anxiously, the action sending a stab of fear through the older man and he tightened his grip on Ianto’s captive hand, tugging him closer. “Ianto...I’m... _fuck!”_ Jack swore, sounding more like Owen than himself, as the rift alarm blared out and Ianto pulled his hand away, retreating down to Tosh’s workstation. Jack cursed expressively under his breath and kicked his desk as he followed in the Welshman’s wake.

“What is it Tosh?” he snapped, the tone drawing raised eyebrows from the team.

“Hoix at Cardiff Central station, causing chaos judging by the reports coming in from numerous sources...” Tosh looked searchingly at him, “we can handle it if you want..?” she let the question hang, gently reminding him they were no longer the innocents he’d left behind.

“No, thanks, Tosh...sorry...I was just in the middle of something important...” his eyes flickered towards Ianto who was moving towards the coat stand, “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. We’ll all go...” at least he could keep his Welshman close. He moved swiftly to where Ianto held his coat out as always, slipping into the heavy wool and leaning into the touch as the young man smoothed the fabric over his shoulders in that intimate and familiar way. It would be okay, this was just a temporary setback...wasn’t it?

It was gone eight o’clock by the time they’d dealt with the Hoix and retconned everyone who’d seen it – which ended up being a very large number of people as the creature had led them a merry dance across platforms and live lines, eventually being cornered in the lost luggage office after following a temping trail of sandwiches and biscuits commandeered from several different vendors. The others did their reports as quickly as possible and split, declining offers of coffee. Jack slumped in his chair as the roller door clunked into place behind them.

He rubbed his hands tiredly over his face – he might not need as much sleep as most normal people, but a year of incessant torture had left him world weary, coupled with long lonely hours on a rooftop every night since he’d been back...he closed his eyes and moments later he was asleep.

When Ianto had finally finished settling their new guest in the cells and made it to Jack’s office with the coffee it was approaching ten. He smiled softly at the sight of his sleeping Captain, picking up his greatcoat from the sofa where Jack had dropped it and draped it carefully over him. He pressed a barely-there kiss to the older man’s temple before scribbling a quick post-it and left.

Jack opened his eyes slowly, wondering why he felt so warm. He groped at his coat and sat up. A quick glance at the clock told him it was just after midnight. _Damn!_ He shouldn’t have fallen asleep...Ianto, he needed to talk to Ianto...if it wasn’t too late... Shaking his head to clear the last vestiges of sleep, a flash of neon pink post-it caught his eye and he grabbed it off the desk. As he read it, a relieved smile spread across his face. 

_ Sweet dreams Sir, it’s a brand new day tomorrow and the world can wait a little longer! I _

Digging in his pocket he fished out his mobile and his finger hovered over #1 on speedial. He frowned and jammed the phone back into his pocket as he stood and shrugged into his coat. Moments later he was speeding to Ianto’s. Nervous adrenalin kept him moving up the stairs two at a time until he stood outside the Welshman’s front door and he hesitated before knocking, his hand hovering in mid air. What if he was asleep, or in the shower or...

As if in answer there were sounds of movement from within and he could hear the Goddess Ella’s ‘Ev’ry time you say goodbye’ wafting out into the quiet hallway... _and the music floats on the breeze..._ Taking this as a sign he knocked softly... _bringing an easier time..._

The door opened slowly and Ianto gazed at him hopefully. He looked utterly beautiful – jacket off, waistcoat undone and hanging open, tie swinging loose and the top buttons of his shirt freed to reveal a tempting glimpse of soft downy hair.

Jack gulped and held out the post-it “...it’s tomorrow now...” he managed to rasp... _and all of our cards are on the table..._

Ianto smiled, the corners of that perfect mouth curving just a little, and stood back, leaving the invitation unspoken... _tell me what you want to do..._

A  step, or two, and the door closed behind him as they looked at each other. Jack opened his mouth but nothing came out, horror filling his eyes as he struggled to find the words he so desperately needed to say... _just don’t tell me that it’s too late..._

Ianto’s smile softened and he held out his arms, their mouths crashing together as Jack threw himself into them and wrapped his Welshman into a tight embrace... _for me to love you_...as they kissed hungrily, tongues tangling fiercely as each reacquainted itself with the taste of the other. 

That kiss was like air to a drowning man and Jack put every feeling and emotion he’d tried to vocalise these past weeks, hands raking up and down the young man’s body... _how perfect we were meant to be..._ each melting into the other as two parts of a puzzle... _our warm and silent symmetry..._ As they panted and moaned and kissed, the kiss deepening with every swipe of tongue across pink and swollen lips it was like they’d never been apart... _it’s times like these when all, all we need, is to be reminded..._

With every moment in Ianto’s arms, every flick of his tongue and every touch of his hands the memories of that boiler room faded away... _and I have flown a thousand miles, to empty room and crowded aisles..._ and he knew that this was where he belonged... _and we went from Cathedral bells to show and tell and ‘wish you well’s..._ They broke apart gasping for air, Ianto burying his head into Jack’s neck as he immersed himself in the blissful sensation of everything that was just _Jack._ He protested faintly when Jack pulled back to look at him... _and I, I still look at you_...the intense gaze seeming to penetrate deep into his soul to see all that he was. “God, Ianto...” _and I am blinded..._ Jack breathed, “you’re so fucking beautiful...” _I am blinded..._

A trembling hand traced the outline of Ianto’s face, ghosting over his cheekbones, his nose and his lips, Jack’s eyes devouring the sight greedily... _because there is a light from a higher window..._ “I thought about you all the time I was away...you were the one thing that kept me going – the thought that I was coming home for you...for us... _shining down on us tonight..._

He pulled the young man closer, bringing their lips together tenderly, smiling into the kiss as the track changed and ‘Someone to watch over me’ began to play... _and the music floats on the breeze from an easier time..._ Ianto moaned against Jack’s mouth as the kiss deepened and hot fingers of desire spread through him, fisting his hands into his Captain’s hair and grinding their hips together... _and all of our cards are on the table..._

They came up for air, breath tiny pants, hearts racing, arousals straining against the restrictions of their trousers and their eyes met... _tell me what you want to do..._

Ianto gasped at the raw emotion in Jack’s eyes – hunger, feral want and _love_ burning from those blue grey pools, pressing a finger against the older man’s mouth as he opened it to speak... _just don’t tell me that it’s too late now..._ knowing what he was going to say and suddenly finding that he didn’t need to hear it – he already knew... _for me to love you..._

He reached for Jack’s hand and led him to the bedroom. “Show me...” he whispered as Jack’s mouth crashed onto his and they fell on to the bed in a tangle of limbs and he was kissed into oblivion...

End

 

  


**Author's Note:**

> Reposted from my LJ


End file.
